


An Omen of Yin and Yang

by BlueLightningAndNexus



Series: Blue Lightning and Nexus' Multiverse [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, High Fantasy, Kings & Queens, Politics, Screenplay/Script Format, Swords & Sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24636994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLightningAndNexus/pseuds/BlueLightningAndNexus
Summary: The beginning of my high fantasy story, written out in script format.This story is set on the northern continent of Aquilo and the southern continent of Sinder. Aquilo is a vast, spacious land. It is home to the powerful Witch Kingdom, that extends over much of the land, ruled by King Adrian; the Combined Kingdoms, where men live alongside elves, dwarves, vampires, gnomes and werewolves; and the "Dual Kingdoms" of Serenity and Vulpecula, which are both ruled under the Blazedream family and King Rankar. Sinder has recently been colonized by the Kingdom of Serenity, and its people have spent the last 30 years building a life for themselves.But things are changing. An assassin plots to kill Adrian. The people of Serenity are agitated with the Blazedream family and Vulpecula. The royal houses of Serenity are becoming intertwined in marriage. A group of rebels plan to overthrow the Combined Kingdoms. Even the once-neutral territories aren't safe. For all intents and purposes, it seems war is inevitable, and no one will come out unscathed.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Blue Lightning and Nexus' Multiverse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798072





	An Omen of Yin and Yang

EXIT, OUTSIDE THE BREADTH, NIGHT  
The forest is still and quiet, when a sled rushes by, pulled by six wolf-dogs. In the front of the sled with two cords wrapped around the wolves is DENNAS SHADOWSKY (40), with his three children in the back: MERTYN (15), ZANE “ICE EYES” (18), and DIANA (17).

Mertyn: Father, are we almost there?  
Dennas: Nearly, yes. Only a few more minutes until we reach the edge of the Breadth  
Zane: Brother, he just barely answered that same question five minutes ago  
Diana: Father, will your blacksmith be there?  
Dennas: Bartholomew? Yes, and he has promised new, hand-made weapons for each of you three  
Zane: Hopefully he delivers

ENTER, THE ROYAL HALLS, WITCH KINGDOM, NIGHT  
Three visitors dressed in extravagant gowns all wait at the entrance of a massive hallway, with two massive spruce doors. A man clad in armor reads through a scroll decked in names, and gestures for the three to enter. Two more men push open the doors with the blunt end of their spears. The camera moves alongside the top of the ceiling, gradually going lower as the many guests are seen, each becoming more extravagant and excited as it draws closer to a set of eight thrones.

KING ADRIAN GRIFFIN IV (40) sits in the fourth throne from the left. He has a bald spot on his head and his face appears tired from age, but other than that, he appears in robust health. On his left sits his sons: FLARSK (14), MATHEW (19/20), BARTY (15), and RYVEN (22). On his right sits an empty throne, followed by his daughters: VICTORIA (13) and YENNER (22), twin sister of Ryven. Yenner’s red hair and Victoria’s black hair sticks out among their brown-and-blond-haired father and brothers, and all seven look like royalty.

Adrian looks sadly at the empty throne, formerly belonging to his wife, QUEEN LISA ALLISON. As the noises of partying begin to cease, he looks to a lower part of the throne room, with four thrones: WALTER ALLISON (41), brother-in-law of Lisa, who sits with arrogant confidence; ANDREW GISTRUD (70), the elderly uncle of Adrian; and Andrew’s children, KREA (33) and BRYCE (31).

ENTER, THE BREADTH, NIGHT  
The wolves pull Dennas and his children in the sled down a hill, where a large city is visible in the background. Smoke emits from it, but not as the city is burning; the citizens of the Breadth are using public bonfires to heat themselves up.  
The wolves pull the sled up to a wooden shop on the side of the road. Dennas jumps out first, grabbing a pickaxe and sword to take with him. His sword, MYTRSTAR, is the most powerful weapon in the land, yet incredibly lightweight.

Dennas: Come now, Bartholomew is just in here.  
Diana, Zane and Mertyn all look at each other, uneasy, before turning to their father and nodding in agreement. The four walk inside the shop.  
As they open the door, a blast of heat emerges from it, visibly knocking back the three children. Dennas wastes no time in taking his coat off, and a large man in an apron and shorts, covered in soot and face tanned from the heat, approaches them. He is BARTHOLOMEW (30s-40s).  
Bartholomew: Lord Shadowsky, it is an honor.

The massive forger falls on his knees, and the three children slowly take their cloaks off, as if removing their winter clothing too fast would intimidate the man.

ENTER, THE ROYAL HALL, WITCH KINGDOM, NIGHT  
The same man who was seen going through the guest-list is now shown approving a young couple, who gleefully enter the door. A man dressed in red and black approaches the knight.

Guest-list man: And your name?  
Red man: Dean Rod.  
The man pulls out a scroll and searches through it, but is unable to find the name “Dean Rod”.  
Guest-list man: I’m sorry, you aren’t on the list of the King’s specified guests. You must be with another party, such as the Allison’s. May I see your identification?  
Dean Rod: Yes, very good sir.  
Dean pulls out a piece of scratched parchment with various bits of information on it. The man with the guest list looks suspicious when he sees “Combined Kingdoms” under “Nation of Birth”, but as he pulls out another scroll to cross-reference them, Dean leans over.

Dean: Oh, there is more on the back, good sir.  
Time seems to slow, and all noise fades as Dean taps his fingers in a rhythm: twice for his pointer and middle finger, then once for his pinky. This catches the guest-list man’s attention; he looks to the guards at the door and the long line of guests behind him, as if to see that no one is watching the rhythm, then flips over the man’s identification. The rhythm was clearly a code, a sign.  
On the back, written in red ink (which contrasts with the black ink on the front) is three words: I am him.  
Dean slips the man a small pouch of coins, and the two face each other briefly.

Guest-list man: Ah, very good, Mr. Rod. Sorry I didn’t notice you initially.  
Dean: Tis alright. It must be hard, trying to keep track of over one-thousand guests and party-goers.  
Dean turns to the guards, who nod in agreement as they push the doors open. “Dean” calmly walks in.

BARTHOLOMEW’S HOME, THE BREADTH, NIGHT  
Bartholomew is turned around, his back to the children as they patiently wait in the living room with their father: Dennas on the couch with Diana, Mertyn sitting crisscrossed on the floor and Zane on the only wooden chair.

Bartholomew: Just a second children, one more moment.  
Zane and Mertyn share a brotherly, quick glance at each other; both are suspicious of this man and wonder if the other is thinking the same thing.  
Bartholomew: I found them!  
Everyone’s head flips back to face him. The forge turns around, holding a rag with three swords on it.  
Bartholomew: I made them just for you, see!  
He gives the longest one, an almost machete-like blade that’s a pale-blue color, but with a longer razor, an intricately-detailed handle, and metal links and tacks fused into the left side.

Bartholomew: I call this one Icebane. For the son of Lord Dennas, the Ice Eyes himself.  
Bartholomew lets out a hearty laugh, but Zane looks annoyed, quite possibly fuming, and the camera zooms in on his unnaturally blue eyes. The forger then gives a thin rapier with a golden handle and silver blade to Diana.

Bartholomew: This one can be used with agility, but it must be used with flexibility and speed. So fast, it is, it can successfully attack an opponent when they least expect it. I call it Blindstrike.  
Diana’s reaction is far more heartwarming; she smiles greatly, her loose obsidian-black bangs falling onto the sword as she affectionately holds it close and gently. Bartholomew picks up a third sword and hands it to Mertyn.  
It is grey, almost white in some parts, and it is shaped like a rib bone that was carved into a spear. It slightly curves towards the end, and the handle is simplistic, with black leather wrapped around it and two steel cross guards extending from it, one longer than the other. It has two s-shaped streaks of metal fused into the front of it. Bartholomew points towards the streaks.

Bartholomew: For weight. This might be one of the lighter swords I had constructed, but that would do no good for your two-handed style. The result came out looking like a rib or spine. I call it Bonecarvin.  
Mertyn: Thank you, sir. I will use this with great respect and care.  
For the second time in less than two minutes, Bartholomew laughs. The children look to their father in the back of the room, who lets out a light chuckle himself.  
Bartholomew: If you use it with respect and care, you ain’t using it at all. Or at least, not right.  
You’re thinking of an antique. And this is no antique.  
The forger leans in real close to Mertyn, and the boy moves his head back as the larger man looms over him.  
Bartholomew: This is fresh from the forger, and let me tell you, Bonecarvin is thirsty.

The screen shifts. The four are now walking from the hut. Dennas walks over to the dog-wolves and pets them affectionately as they nuzzle their noses against the collar of his coat. Mertyn turns around to find that no one is facing him, and pulls out a smaller, plain, worn-down sword.  
Mertyn: I’m sorry. I guess I won’t be needing this anymore.  
He draws it back with one hand, prepared to throw it into the snow, when Dennas shouts at him  
Dennas: Hey! What are you doing!  
Mertyn stammers at him, but Dennas runs up to him and backhands him with a gloved hand.  
Dennas: Never throw away a perfectly good sword! That is a waste.  
Mertyn gets back up on his feet.  
Mertyn: I have a replacement now. Plus, its better. Not as worn down or simplistic.  
Dennas: You always need a replacement blade should your current one break. Especially one as good as this. Plus, it’s a hazard to anyone who might not see it in the high snow and step on it.  
Mertyn looks up at Dennas, and father and son briefly share a look.  
Dennas: Come now. Let’s not keep your mother waiting.

ENTER, THE EARTHEAGLE PALACE, SERENITY, DAY  
COLRIN “THE MENACE” EARTHEAGLE (18-20) is seen looking out the window of his study. He is somber, and a book is in his hands, as if he was reading it and lost interest. His door suddenly opens, and his mother, MUGREVI BRIMM (40s) appears, a stern look on her face.  
Colrin: Haven’t you ever heard of knocking, mother?  
He spits out the last word as if it were poison.  
Mugrevi: Son, we must discuss your marriage to Diana Shadowsky.  
Colrin: What’s there to discuss? The woman has been refusing to get married since the rebellion ended. The king finally reminded her of his own marriage to Queen Nyra, and that finally convinced her.  
Mugrevi: You deliver this information to me as if I don’t already know.  
Colrin: It doesn’t matter. Soon, our families will be united, for better or for worse.  
Mugrevi: It DOES matter. The Shadowsky and Eartheagle families haven’t held direct power in the Dual Kingdoms in over 400 years. We have been the two most powerful families in the history of Serenity, rivaled only by the united Blazedream-Sternflame-Mournspark families.  
Colrin: You deliver this information to me as if I don’t already know.  
Mugrevi: Way to use my own words against me.  
Colrin: Cut the crap, what’s the real reason you are here.  
His mother sighs a heavy, motherly sigh. She doesn’t like seeing her son like this.  
Mugrevi: Is there a reason why you’ve been avoiding your father and I.  
Colrin *mumbling*: Father is the one who suggested I marry Diana in the first place.  
Mugrevi, once again, sighs. This is useless, and as much as she hates it, she knows it.  
Mugrevi: You can talk to any of us, Colrin.  
He grunts in acknowledgement of the statement. Mugrevi is about to get up, when Colrin holds up his hand. The woman freezes.  
Colrin: Are you actually here to discuss my marriage to Diana.  
Mugrevi: Yes.  
Colrin turns around to face her for the first time since her entrance.  
Colrin: What is it?  
Mugrevi: Son…whatever you do, we can’t fight against the Shadowsky’s.  
Colrin: Whatever gave you the preposterous idea that we are going to war.  
Mugrevi: God, child don’t you listen to your words? We aren’t going to war, but its high time we discuss how you treat your future wife.  
Colrin: Mother, don’t interfere in my marriage.  
Mugrevi: You’re trembling, child.  
Colrin looks down at his fist, which is visibly shaking. He clamps it with his free hand.  
Mugrevi: I know about that night.  
The two stare at each other, a scowl peers across Mugrevi’s lips as she remembers the sound of her son beating her daughter-in-law.

Mugrevi: Do you have anything to say? About your actions?  
Colrin: She deserved it!  
Mugrevi: She did nothing to deserve it!  
Colrin stands up, and the “Menace” part of his nickname is visible: he is tall and muscular, his steel grey eyes shooting daggers at his mother, but she is unwavering.  
Mugrevi: You forget my place. You are still my boy.  
Colrin: Don’t overstep your boundaries, mother!  
Mugrevi promptly slaps him in the face.  
Mugrevi: Don’t overstep yours, son! I am the matriarch of this House, and I won’t let it burn, not like Fogtalon, not again!  
Colrin closes his eyes in pain and sorrow at the memories of Fogtalon.  
Colrin: Forgive me, mother.  
Mugrevi: Do not ask me for forgiveness. Ask her.  
The woman turns around, and her robes, a combination of grey, brown and forest green, drift against the wood as Colrin sits back down in his chair. The sound of a door closing is audible, and Colrin places his head in his hands.

ENTER, THE ROYAL HALLS, WITCH KINGDOM, DAY  
“Dean Rod” strolls through the rows upon rows of tables in the royal hall. The party is in full swing now: full roasted turkeys are proudly displayed along the tables alongside hams and potatoes, but the only thing everyone seems to be caring about is the glasses of wine that fill everyone’s hands and bellies.  
He briefly makes eye contact with Bryce, who looks suspiciously at him. Just then, a man with a white beard walks over to Bryce and whispers something in his ear over the loud ruckus of the party.

Bryce: Thank you.  
The old man nods in an agreement and walks away. Bryce gets up from his seat and walks towards his cousin, Adrian, who laughing alongside Yenner, Mathew and Ryven.  
Bryce *kneeling*: Cousin, I have news.  
Adrian *with a laugh*: Bryce you drama queen, get up.  
Bryce gets up. Clearly this is two old friends trying their best to act formally, and failing.  
Adrian: What do you bring news of?  
Bryce: My king, the Carson’s will be here by midnight, and Lord Jeremy Dwayne Carson is with them.  
Adrian: That’s excellent news! And what of your own wife and children?  
Bryce: Margaret will be here with the children sometime afterwards.  
Ryven: The party will likely still be going strong.

Mathew looks onwards. On the other end of the hall is HOUSE FOGTALON, who in contrast to the Griffin family’s golden colors, are all wearing greys. Their chairs aren’t as fancy as the royal thrones, but they are wooden and extravagantly carved. KAELA FOGTALON (30s) is with her husband, DONOVAR FOGTALON (40s). Next to them is their fraternal twin sons, GURNAR and KAEGAN (16). Donovar’s younger brother, ARREN (early 30s) is in the back corner of the room with his wife, the beautiful LILLIYANE WHITEDREAMER (29).  
Donovar sees Adrian and Mathew, and smiles. He kisses his wife on the cheek and says a few words to her, all inaudible over the sounds of partying. Donovar walks over to Adrian and they extend their gloved palms in a handshake.

Adrian: Donovar, it’s good to see you.  
Donovar: Likewise, my king.  
The interaction is somewhat awkward. An unspoken history has occurred between these two (more specifically, their houses), but Bryce interrupts.  
Bryce: My lord, how is handling business in the west?  
Donovar lets out a laugh. He is more accustomed to talking with Bryce then his cousin.  
Donovar: Terribly boring. How’s the east?  
Bryce: There’s even less out east then there is in the west. I don’t think anything could happen, even if I wanted it to.  
Donovar *with a laugh*: Well, at least that means Harmonia is safe.  
Bryce: Indeed.  
Donovar turns to face Mathew, and his smile widens, but it is pure formality.  
Donovar: Ah, Mathew, great to see you.  
Mathew: And you too, my lord.  
Donovar: So, I suppose soon you’ll make as good of a ruler as your father.  
Mathew: You must be forgetting my brother, Ryven.  
Donovar: Certainly not, my grace. You and your brothers, Ryven, Flarsk and Barty; you all will soon have to rule the North, South, West and East of Harmonia, as Lord Bryce, your father, Lord Jeremy and I do.

Mathew nods in agreement, but he is not fully convinced.  
Donovar: Oh, well. Now is a time to celebrate. Not to worry about politics.  
Donovar holds up his glass of wine in a toast.  
Donovar: I propose a toast!  
The entire hall falls silent instantly.  
Donovar: We have all watched this kingdom surpass itself in the hardest of times…grow stronger in the greatest of times…and as the Lords of the North, South, West and East begin to grow old…we will need to pass those titles onto another generation. To Prince Mathew Griffin, the latest in that generation of new lords!  
The royal hall erupts into cheers.

ENTER, THE BREADTH FORTRESS, DAY  
Servants are seen scurrying around the cold floor of a palace. ARICE SHADOWSKY (40s) is seen in a black throne at the front of the floor, her eyes cold and uncaring. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and her husband and three children all walk in.  
Dennas: We’re home.  
Mertyn seems to be leading the group. The servants stand upright quickly, but fall back down on their knees just as quickly. Mertyn gives them a charming, yet somewhat awkward smile, and his mother runs over to them. Arice, however, runs right past her sons and husband and into the arms of Diana. The two embrace for a few seconds as everyone else looks on before Arice pulls away.

Arice: I’m so sorry.  
Diana: It’s alright. *Silence*. There’s nothing I can do. This is my last night.  
Tears began to well up in Arice’s eyes, but her daughter brushed them away with her gloved hand.  
Arice: What would you like to do on your last day in the Breadth?  
Diana: Whatever is most enjoyable.  
Arice turns to her sons and husband, who all look equally depressed. She turns back to Diana, her head lowered. Her head suddenly goes up; she has an idea.  
Arice: I know. Why don’t you tell me about your journeys? Then we can go out to eat, all of us, and I can arrange for you to watch the tournament in place of Mertyn.  
They turn to the male members of their family, and as Diana smiles, everyone seems to nod in agreement, even Mertyn, who seems uninterested in the idea of a tournament.  
Arice: Excellent!  
Arice gives her daughter a loving kiss on the forehead. When she pulls away, she sees tears in Diana’s eyes.  
Diana: Nothing…will ever really be the same again, will it?  
Arice looks sadly at her daughter. There is nothing she can do to stop the marriage now.  
Arice: No. It won’t.  
A servant dressed in black appears in the background. The screen focuses, and the details of the serving girl are made out.  
Servant: Lady Arice, it’s time to prepare for the ceremony. 

ENTER, WESTERN SERENITY, THE WYVERNTIDE PALACE, DAY  
TRISTAN LIGHTNING (20) is seen riding his horse towards the Wyverntide palace, servants shuffling all about, desperately trying to sweep up the main doorway for his entrance. The camera zooms in on his face and he smiles.  
The screen shifts and he is now walking down the palace halls, obviously comfortable and at home. He addresses two servants by their first names in a friendly manner and pats two more affectionately on the shoulders as they exchange smiles. He is a good and kind man.  
Suddenly, he runs head-on into ROLAN WYVERNTIDE (30s), the cousin of Brian Wyverntide and the guardian of the palace and the family. Rolan initially looks disgusted, but his scowl turns into a cocky and repulsive smile as he sees who it is.

Rolan: Ah, well, look who it is! My cousin’s bastard.  
Tristan: Rolan, always a pleasure to make your acquaintance.  
Rolan: Well, don’t be like that. Come on pal, we’re old friends!  
Rolan hits Tristan on the back as if they were old friends, then a second time hard enough to knock the man off balance. They share a mutual disgust for each other.  
Tristan: What do you want, Sir Rolan?  
Rolan fakes looking shocked as a joke, before slapping Tristan on the shoulder this time, roughly clamping his hand around the edge of it.  
Rolan: Why, can’t I just take a moment to appreciate our relationship as both friends and family? You must be my, what, second cousin once-removed.  
Rolan shoves Tristan again as the latter looks at him directly in the eyes with a stoic face.  
Rolan: Not like you’re worthy of the Wyverntide name.

He draws his sword, which is long enough that he makes a show of jerking it to the side as he removes it, as if trying to accidentally hit Tristan in the face. It doesn’t work, as Tristan draws a shorter, wider blade and parry’s it. ARIYANNEL WYVERNTIDE (35-38), Tristan’s aunt and Brian’s sister, suddenly runs up to the two of them, her face angry and set in stone.  
Ariyannel: What do you two think you’re doing!  
Rolan: Oh, my lady, I was just giving my cousin a, uh, lesson in manners.  
Ariyannel: Oh, don’t play games with me Rolan. You’re supposed to be on castle guard right now. You knew Tristan was going to be here and you allowed herself to come here for the sole purpose of humiliating him. Get out of my sights.  
Rolan looks annoyed as humanly possible. He spits on the ground next to Ariyannel’s foot, and she prepares to slap him, but Tristan grabs her arm. She elbows him away and faces Rolan, disgust plastered on her face as he leaves. Ariyannel faces Tristan.  
Ariyannel: Don’t touch me, bastard! And why is your sword drawn! Regardless of whether you were parrying him, you could’ve poked one of your eyes out.  
She grabs the wrist of the hand holding the sword, but then pulls herself closer and whispers into his ear.

Ariyannel *whispering*: Why are you here? Rolan could’ve killed you  
Tristan: You underestimate my popularity here.  
Ariyannel: No, you overestimate it. Only a direct Wyverntide is allowed to enter here without direct permission. Rolan is the guardian. He could’ve killed you.  
Tristan: I AM a Wyverntide. I can enter without permission.  
Ariyannel: Your last name is Lightning. You aren’t a Wyverntide, you’re a Wyverntide’s bastard.  
They pull away, and Ariyannel talks in a normal voice.  
Ariyannel: I don’t care why you’re here, just do what you want to do, and leave Serenity forever.

Tristan nods in agreement, trying to take this in. Eventually, he turns around and leaves, ready to find his goal. Ariyannel turns around herself, walking out of the hallway.  
The screen shifts. Ariyannel is now seen approaching the royal halls of the palace, which are differentiated by two highly-decorated layered glass windows on the walls that reflect light onto two ornamented doors. Ariyannel gently knocks twice on the wood, and LADY MELLINA RANA-WYVERNTIDE (40s) opens the door, a scowl plastered on her face.

Mellina: Yes, what is it, sister?  
She spits out the last word like it pains her to say it.  
Ariyannel: My lady, your husband’s bastard is here.  
Surprise is plastered on her face  
Mellina: Tristan?  
Ariyannel: The one and only, my lady.  
Mellina, puts her head in her hands, facing away from her sister-in-law.  
Mellina: No, no no no no…why is he here? I thought he had left for the far east, or the distant north, like the Breadth.  
Mellina turns back to her sister-in-law.  
Mellina: Where is he?  
Ariyannel: Last I saw, he was off to see your children, my lady.  
Mellina: Thank you.

Mellina grabs a forest green cloak off the nearby rack, throws it around her neck one-handed with the confidence of a thousand kings, and quickly wraps it, all in one swift motion.  
The screen shifts once more. Tristan is now seen walking through a skywalk above a river that connects two parts of the palace. Flourishing ivy crawls up the white walls of the castle, and Tristan’s pace slows as he looks out and admires the view. His head suddenly turns when he hears the familiar sound of footsteps.  
Ken: Tristan?  
Tristan looks over at KEN (15-17), a serving boy working for the Wyverntides. He is short and pudgy for his age, with a babyish face, but he has a sweet smile that could melt ice. Tristan’s face lights up when he sees him.

Tristan: Ken, it’s good to see you. Where are the children?  
Ken: Ceres is in her room. Shawn is outside practicing his swordplay.  
Tristan: Is Falon with him?  
Ken: Likely so. The boy has become committed to improving his own skills with a blade.  
Tristan: Anna?  
Ken: Last I saw; she was in the gardens. It’s close to the courtyard, so she might be with your…brothers.  
Tristan: Thank you, Ken. I hope to see you sometime soon.

Tristan walks the end of the skywalk. Rather than approaching the hallways, he instead tightens his belt around his sword and jumps out of a gap in the skywalk wall that acts as a window. He lands on the bank of the small river and continues walking.  
The screen shifts. Tristan is now rounding the corner of the castle. He places a gloved hand on the limestone of the castle and slowly creeps his head out, as if sneaking around. He sees the three children in the courtyard outside the castle. SHAWN (15) has a wooden sword and he is sparring with FALON (8), who is obviously struggling to keep up with his brother. Shawn, without trying, knocks the sword out of his brother’s hand and points it at the young boy, who stumbles backwards and falls in his attempt to avoid it. Shawn does this all with one hand in an incredibly relaxed position.  
ANNA (10) watches this whole scene with a look of scorn. She sits on a nearby stone bench, her tan dress dirtied by the dust left on the seat. As Shawn lets out a laugh at his younger brother’s lack of skill, Tristan emerges from behind the castle wall. Anna is the first to notice him, and she jumps up from her seat, causing Falon and Shawn to look at where she’s running to. Falon follows his sister shortly afterwards, and the two envelop their half-brother in a hug (however, they only reach his legs).

Anna: Tristan, we missed you!  
Falon: We didn’t think you were coming back!  
Anna: We were worried!  
Falon: We thought something killed you!  
Anna: Or someone!  
Tristan lets out a laugh as he picks Falon up, the tinier boy surprised by the action, but he wraps his arms around his brother’s head in a second hug. Tristan puts Falon down and picks Anna up, but is surprised by her weight, his arms straining under the girl.  
Tristan: You’ve gotten heavier.  
Anna *with a laugh*: I’ve grown! I finally reach your chest!  
Tristan puts her down as well, and Shawn walks over to him, but he isn’t smiling, unlike his siblings.  
Shawn: You shouldn’t be here.  
Tristan: Come on, Shawn…I couldn’t just leave you guys without ever saying goodbye.  
Shawn: You won’t be gone that long.  
Tristan: Yeah…but I left two years ago. I would’ve been gone for another three. I didn’t want you guys to have to wait a whole five years before you could see me.  
Shawn pauses, and he looks down at his two younger siblings before facing his half-brother once more.  
Shawn: Well, you should at least say goodbye to Ceres. She’s in her room as usual, moping about having to go to Diana Shadowsky’s wedding.  
Brian: Tristan!?

All four turn to find their father, BRIAN WYVERNTIDE (40s) looking at them from the top of a nearby hill next to the window of the estate. Brian has disbelief, confusion and fear written all over his face, and he quickly unclips a latch on his thin yellow coat, causing it to fall to the ground. He runs down the hill, sword bouncing in its belt-latched scabbard all the way down, and suddenly he is in front of his two eldest sons. The whole process takes about five seconds.

Brian *to Tristan*: What are you doing here? *Whispering* If Mellina finds you, you’ll never be allowed to see your brothers and sisters again.  
Tristan: Father, I couldn’t just leave for three more years. I left when Falon us up to here on me. *He holds a hand a little above his knee*. By the time I got back, he would’ve been 11 years old, having lived in this palace for more than a decade.  
Brian: So you risked never seeing them again.  
Tristan rolls his eyes. The camera angle briefly switches, with Falon shown standing between Tristan and Brian, now up to the illegitimate son’s chest.  
Tristan: Your wife doesn’t have the authority to do that.  
Brian: She could most certainly try to exercise it! At the very least, she wouldn’t let a bastard come to the palace, and then prevent the younger ones from leaving.  
Shawn: She couldn’t do that!  
Brian: She couldn’t do that to you, son! But the little ones will still be under our protection.  
Anna: But if mom does that, then we won’t be able to see Tristan.  
Falon: Exactly. 

Tristan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility; there is a split-second where he seems taken aback, then tightens his belt.  
Tristan: I must at least give my farewells to Ceres.  
Mellina: Tristan!  
The children, Tristan and Brian all turn to face Mellina. Now, the entire Wyverntide clan is gathered here except for Ceres. Mellina is furious.  
Mellina *to Tristan*: What do you think you’re doing here, bastard?!

ENTER, EXINIA, SINDER, DAY  
ALSPHORUS IGNITUS (25) is seen looking at the afternoon sun on Exinia. There is nothing but desert stretching on for miles on end. The red sun is setting, and he looks sadly to it in the west. His shift is about to end, and but he wants to stay out longer and watch the red light envelop the air. Suddenly, four of his comrades (MAREK, CARAC, ULRIC and TYBALT, all under 24 years of age) all walk in through a stone door behind him.

Tybalt: Al, your shift is almost up.  
The words empty into the wind. Al ignores them. He doesn’t want to go yet. Ulric tries a different tactic.  
Ulric: Al, we have to go. Cedric needs us immediately.

Al sighs and takes his iron sword off the dusty ground.  
The scene shifts. Al, Tybalt, Ulric, Marek and Carac are all seen walking down the narrow, stone halls of a castle. Marek is leading the group, and he carries the level of confidence equivalent to a lord in the Witch or Dual Kingdoms.  
Marek opens a door at the end, and the noise of people talking fills the hall. He waits for everyone else to walk through, but as Al is about to walk by at the end, he affectionately places his hand on Al’s shoulder. Al looks up at him, and Marek smiles.

Marek: Don’t worry. We’ll get out of this dusty hell soon enough.  
Alsphorus: Yes. Until then, let’s go see Lord Cassius.  
It is a formal title. Cassius is no more a lord then Alsphorus is a royal guard, but they entertain the title. The two walk in, and they stop behind their friends, who themselves have stopped and are facing CEDRIC CASSIUS (50s) silently.

Cedric: Ah, my corporals, please come in. Take a seat.  
All five sit down on wooden chairs. Carac, at the edge of the group, notices a chair to his left.  
Carac: Sir, is someone joining us?  
Cedric Cassius: Yes, Carac. Today, Governor Eros Meto will be with us.  
Ulric: Sir, if you don’t mind me asking…why?  
Cedric briefly looks at the young Ulric with his cold, piercing blue eyes, before allowing a cold, creepy chuckle to escape his lips.

Cedric: Don’t you know? We’re getting a handful of newer recruits today.  
Tybalt: But, why sir? I thought we had enough men on hand as is.  
Cedric: We do. Or, at least, enough to deal with the Exinians. But not the savages  
All five guards look at each-other with expressions ranging from terrified to cautious.  
Ulric: Sir, a savage hasn’t been spotted here in seven years.  
Cedric: News really doesn’t get around as fast as I would like it to, now does it?

The five share momentary looks of confusion with each other.  
The screen shifts. EROS METO (20-30s) is seen riding her brown horse, FLASH, as she approaches the watchtower on the edge of Exinia.  
Eros: We’ve arrived.  
She dismounts her horse, tying the cord on his saddle to a nearby wooden rob protruding from the ground. She approaches the watchtower, and in the red light of dusk, two guards in iron armor face her.

Guard One: Lady Governor.  
Eros: Please, call me Eros.  
Guard Two: …Lady Eros, the watchmen are expecting you.  
Eros: Excellent.

The two guards each grab one of the brass knobs protruding from the door. They pull it open, and Eros walks through, looking like graceful royalty.  
The screen shifts once more. Eros is now seen walking down the halls. The sun has completely disappeared, and a few torches burning a dull orange are scarcely dispersed throughout the walls of the halls, illuminating her path.  
Eros reaches the same room that Marek, Carac, Ulric, Al and Tybalt entered earlier. She pushes open the door, poking her head through.  
Eros: May I enter?  
Cedric: Yes, Lady Governor.  
Eros rolls her eyes at the tile before entering. She sits down on the wooden seat next to Carac, and she looks across the semicircle of chairs, seeing Al at the end.

Eros: Alsphorus Firstborn, always good to see you.  
Al, similar to Eros herself, rolls his eyes at the unnecessary title.  
Cedric looks from Alsphorus, and then to Eros. 

Cedric: I’ll get right to the point. We’ve had numerous sightings of the natives here in the last few days alone.  
Eros raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.  
Alsphorus: Sir, are you sure?  
Cedric: As sure as the day is long. We need to mobilize quickly.  
Eros: Sir, with all due respect, your precautions might not be necessary. If it’s simply protection you want, we can provide that, and we will. But there’s no need to mobilize. This isn’t an all-out war.  
Cedric: It will be if we don’t stamp them out. Don’t you know what it was like when we first came here?  
He turns to Alsphorus.  
Cedric: Boy, you were born in the tail-end of the final conflict with the natives. You haven’t lived through their fights like we have. They are a bloodthirsty species, those Spectrolites, one that you couldn’t--  
Eros: ENOUGH!

She sits up, slamming her hands on the table.  
Eros: Is this all you called us in for, Cassius?  
Cedric clears his throat.  
Cedric: Er, no, m’lady. King Rankar will be sending more men down here to check on our progress. The towns are growing at a much faster rate than we anticipated; why, we’re approaching the population of some of Serenity’s smaller cities.  
Eros: And, presumably, if the visit goes well, we’ll get those much-needed supplies?  
Cedric nods.  
Cedric: The medicine can’t get here soon enough. We have more and more reports everyday.  
Alsphorus: Nothing we haven’t heard before. Will that be all, Lord Cassius? I think it’s about time for me to retire to my quarters. 

Eros speaks up.  
Eros: Ignitus, I did have something I wanted to discuss. Liam Arkham, are you aware of him?  
Alsphorus ponders for a moment.  
Alsphorus: I can’t say I have.  
Eros: He’s governor of the nearby Monsoon Island, about two day’s journey from the coast.  
Alsphorus: Monsoon Island? I thought the Nathan family was ruling over that land.  
Eros: They were, until a few weeks ago. Their Ophelian faith is at odds with Arkham and the rest of the Yamians. A coup is underway, and my network predicts it’ll escalate to a full-blown battle within the season. Seems both sides are scouting nearby colonies for support and resources…  
Alsphorus: You aren’t seriously considering helping this Arkham fellow, are you?  
Eros: Not at all. My allegiance lies with the Nathan’s and their matriarch, Edrin. Our families have been comrades for decades now, but I can’t let that betray my duty as governor. We may be a populous colony, but we are still young; we can’t get involved in this messiness. We have to stay neutral above all.  
Alsphorus ponders the news that has been brought to his attention.  
Alsphorus: Everyday, the knights gossip of the other kingdoms. Of the commonfolk and lords of Serenity, tired of being treated second class. Of the Witch Kingdom and their power-hungry princes. Of the unrest in the Combined Kingdoms. Now, even Monsoon Island isn’t safe.  
Cedric: Yes, it’s all quite troubling, isn’t it?  
Alsphorus: I can’t help but feel like a storm is brewing. And when it hits...none of us will be safe.


End file.
